


The Stars Have Been Unkind

by dragonofeternal



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Horror, Eyestrain, M/M, Monster Judal, Reunion Fic, Surreal, weird formatting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 06:47:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5656549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonofeternal/pseuds/dragonofeternal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hakuryuu has nightmares- choking, drowning, suffocating on the corpse-black ichor of his sins- and they have come to be with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stars Have Been Unkind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shinjaninja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinjaninja/gifts), [skwinky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skwinky/gifts).



_ Hakuryuu is choking, drowning - his throat spasms around smoke made solid, thick sludge that drips down his face and throat, and god it's everywhere all at once and pulsing with stars. Each one is a whispering cosmos and Hakuryuu feels his skull might burst. He is alone but never alone with the way his guilt and sins weigh on him. The imperial crown is a jingling, beaded collar, and he chokes on the sludge of his sin as penance. _

_ But there was only ever one life that mattered to him in those piles of bodies, and so he must devour his guiltless carnage every night until he does care. _

 

* * *

 

 

Hakuryuu wakes with a terrible start, rolling over and coughing so hard he nearly vomits. Damn nightmares. Damn smoke damaged lungs. He's parched, but the thought of drinking anything makes him feel nauseous. The stench from the dream won't leave his nose, and so, when he can breathe again, he rolls over to open the window.

It's already open.

And there's something in it.

 

* * *

 

Wrong.

Everything wrong.

It was bad enought when it was just the geezer prattling in his ruhk about crops and wizards and the dead but now e̵ve͠ryt͘h͘in̛g̀ ̸s̛p͜ea̴ķs, ea̶̵͟ch̡ ͞҉p̕͟͠os̨͠s͘͝i̵b̴i͜͠l͡i̷҉͘t̵͝͠y̶ ͘R͘͡OA̵͢͡R̵͞I͘͢͜N̷̛͞G̶̨ ̧͜A̴N͏D͡͝ ͘͠Ş͡C͏͡R̶E̛A͏M̀͞I̸̛N͜҉̡G ͡A̡N̵D̸͞ _ J̢̡͡͝҉U҉̷̀̕͟D̴̷̸̷A̛͘͜͝L̶̸̴Ḩ̸̀A̷͝S̸͞ ̸̴͘Ǹ̵͟͟͢O̵͜ ̸̧̀͜͏ẂO͘͜͏R̶̴͟D́̕͞S͟͢͞ ̷̀T̴̨͞O͟͢͢ ̧̕͝S̷̀͡͝Į̷̶̴͠L͏̢͟Ę̶̸̀͏N̵̢C̡̛̛E̸̢̢͞ ̧̢T͏̨H̀͜͠É͘͢͞͡M̴̧͜ _

 

It

is

_ damnably _

a͙͓̘̬̫n͎̝̭̝͕͉̱n̘͎̯o͕̭̘̟̘̗ͅy͈̠i̲̻͍͔n̞̯͔̪͇͕̞g̜̳̯̮̼̭

 

He's hungry.

 

* * *

 

Hakuryuu stares at the thing in his window, this horrid, vast abomination, and he realizes now that the smell isn't stuck in his nose - it's right there. The thing watches him, hunched in the window. Its red eyes blaze like dying stars in its rotting, feathered body. Somehow, Hakuryuu can tell it's warped from whatever it  _ should  _ be, even if he can't tell what that original form was supposed to be. 

Part of it (a head maybe, or perhaps a hand) tilts to the side, as though it wants something from him. Perhaps he's still dreaming.

"Can I help you?" Hakuryuu whispers, and he hates how uncertain he sounds.

"Hakuryuu," it whispers in reply, a sigh like the end of the world, from nowhere and all at once. It sends the hair on the back of his neck on edge. "Gimme some peaches."

 

* * *

 

 

Is this thing Judal? Hakuryuu feels doubtful. It certainly gobbles up peaches like him though, one after another disappearing down a gullet that is all teeth. He watches it with interest, passing it peach after peach. Its hands are clawed, the fingers too long, and the arms bend all wrong, dripping ichor all over his bed.

"What are you," Hakuryuu asks after feeding it a while.

"What do you think?" it snickers back.

"I don't know what to think."

"Liar." It spits a pit at his feet. 

The thing reaches out again, but Hakuryuu has no more peaches to give. He forces his breathing to stay even. He can count the individual withered spikes of ill-formed feathers springing from the ooze, see the way its flesh writhes like it's infested. He suppresses the urge to gag or flinch as it cups his face. A claw traces along the edge of his scar, just as Judal used to. 

"You should see yourself," it hisses, sounding entirely too pleased. "Aren't you supposed to be an  _ Emperor  _ now?"

 

* * *

 

 

Searching.

For so long.

AndNowHere'sHakuryuuRightInFrontOfHimAndJudalCanBarelyContainHisEverythingPowerGodFuckHisBodyAchesAndCreaksAndBreaksAndRemakesAndHeSeesTheCosmosWhenAllHeWantsRightNowIsHakuryuuFuckingHellTheRestCanWaitHeWillUnmakeItInHisOwnTimeForNowHeJustWantsToFeelHakuryuusHandsOnHimHeAchesForHisTouchButAlsoJustAchesInGeneralThereIsSoMuchOfEverythingPleaseHeWantsToBeFr-

 

* * *

 

Hakuryuu's breath hitches as the Judal-thing bowls him over, presses him down into the mattress. "Hakuryuu," it pleads, "Hakuryuu." Hakuryuu twists beneath it until he's on his stomach, hands grasping for traction. To what purpose? He can't say? Does he want to run or fight? Terror grips at him, but should it? The thing's claws dig into his back, through his nightclothes, sharp enough to pierce through skin, and the black, pungent ooze that rots off its whole body drips into the holes. It's cold, and it burns, and the thing has too many hands, all gripping his body as it bends over him.

Something flares in his mind, unbidden, unfamiliar: the creature's own memories. His mouth tastes sweet, and he's laughing as he tumbles into himself and the world upends into darkness and maniacal laughter and bones, and Hakuryuu realizes he's kissing this disgusting abomination. 

But it's  _ his _ disgusting abomination. He knows that now, and so he doesn't mind the teeth, or the ooze, or the strange heaviness of unnatural magic that weighs down the very air he breathes. 

"Judal," Hakuryuu can feel him bristle at the sound of his name, nails digging deeper, feathers standing on end. Hakuryuu wants to say his name again and again and again, wants to tell him all the things he's missed. "You abandoned your post," is what comes out instead. "You failed me."

Judal laughs, and Hakuryuu knows he's been understood. Their mouths crash again, and the kiss tastes like peaches and death. The sludge drips from Judal to him, down his face, down his throat, and he realizes his nightmares have been a cry for him all along. So he swallows it, the darkness that makes him think of death, and understands it isn't meant as punishment. It's just memories, things they share. Clawed hands strip him and mark him, and Hakuryuu arches backwards into Judal's touch. He's always been a rambunctious lover. Hakuryuu bites back, presses close, yearns.

* * *

 

 

With his body pressed to Hakuryuu's, Judal can remember things clearly and know they're  _his_. Bright Partevian swelters where people melt as quick as ice treats and people pat him on the head for a job well done. Humiliating himself with tears and empty threats before the King of Sindria. Hakuryuu, testing Belial's powers on officials who speak out.

His whole body is a purr of ecstasy as he shudders inside Hakuryuu, their bodies scrambling for oneness. It's different, very different, from the way they did things in the past, but he fills Hakuryuu perfectly. The kisses Hakuryuu peppers on his skin makes the shuddering beneath quiet for a moment. Hakuryuu gives him a single, precious moment in which the constant ache of his body shuddering and breaking and reforming stops, where he can just exist as Judal, even if that Judal is very different from what he used to be.

Hakuryuu's voice sings against the walls as he begs for more, and Judal echoes like the cosmos. Their darkness blends, and he can taste Hakuryuu's memories blending with his own. He wonders, idly, as their bodies shudder and quake with ecstasy, if Hakuryuu sees his memories too.

* * *

 

 

When Hakuryuu wakes the next morning, he still feels achy and filled from the night before. And sticky. As he pulls from Judal's embrace, he wipes half-dried sludge from his body, spits some from his mouth. Yes. Very, very sticky.

 

* * *

 

 

Courtiers whisper now, as though Hakuryuu is some foolish fairy tale emperor showing off a swindler's suit. To be fair, they'd rather that be the case.

Instead of seeing him nude, they must instead watch him parade about his horrible pet monster. He sits it by his side, hand feeds it peaches and bones, and speaks to it as though it understands. It has no face, and yet they always feel its eyes upon them. 

He calls it by the name of the dead high priest, and no one dares correct him.

When Sindria declares the end of the age of metal vessels, their king just smiles and pets the head of his abominable companion. "We needn't kowtow to the Seven Seas Alliance anymore," Hakuryuu laughs. "Do we Judal?"

Its mouth yawns open to teeth and stars and the world shakes with the wrongness of the sound. Kou will not bow. Never again.

Hail the Emperor

Hail the Ḥ͖̟i̹̜͈͓̪g̥̮͇h̝̟͔͕͓ ͓̖̲̟P̟̼̘̙̝̳̘͙r̖͙̝i͈̬̞͖̮͕̻̲e̖͍̹͖̣s͔̯͍t̘̠̹̞

 Hail the t̨̤͉͚̮̠̠̯͙͢͠h́҉̝̫̟͓͕̣̱͎̥̺͖̭̻è̯̜͇̺͕̲̣͉͍̠̮͚̝̭͍̀ ̶̼̖͙̳͎͚̹́͠͝K̵̲͙̤͇̖͕̠̙̙̟̻̗͝o̡̧̰̥̙̹̖̼̫ú̶̜̝͎̩̠̹͕̞͉͉͈͕͚̰ ̛̲̟̤̞̤̠̥̞̤͈̠͚̤͕̻̜̭́E̴̸̵̗̼͓̼̰̥͠͠m̵̲̮̖̲̲͇̝̹̰̼͙̞̞̭̜̦̦̀͠p̲̳̺͖͈̞̱͍̦̻̰̬̞͢͞͝͞į̛̬̝̝͚̲͇̬̮͔͘͠r̴͠҉͚͈̝̣̤̳͙̤̗̬̣̥̯ͅe̮̞̘̦̤̗̬̞̦̱̮̜̱͈̥̳̘͞͝ͅͅ'͝͏̴̛̟̜̼̖̟͎̯̝̭̼s͏̸̧͕͖̲̙̲̫͙̯̫͉̣͕̻̹̪͖̞ ̵̧̡̺̣̗̪̞͙͔̯̟͚͇̲͉̞͖̰g̤̗͍̝͇̥̱̕l̕͏̘̬̱̱̰͕̹̲̩̺͟o̧̡͙̹̭̞͇̖̠̻͉̙̗͓͢r̨͎̘̳͔̖͓͔̞̞̜̞̕͠i̢̛͎͔̻͈̙̼̺̣̭̼̺̰̦̠͍̗̙ò̵̡͕̙̗̮͖̮̳̬̪̘̭͜͠ͅų̶̫͈͕̱̜̪̗̜͔̠̦̹̯̭́̀ͅs̸͘͝͏̨̥̳̜͇̤̪̲̹̟̝͕͇̬̻̤ͅ ̸̨̢͔̣̞̦͓̪͉̗͢r҉̢̧̟̝̩̳͍̯͖e̷͕̹͍̜̮̩̪̺̤̬͇̼͕̥͠ͅí̢̛̤̟̞̝̺̭͕͢ǵ̨̩̯̯̙̟̟͙̯͔̱͔̟͔ṋ̷̴̹̙͇͉͙̹̤͈̗̼̩͖̠̖͓̻̤

 


End file.
